


Prestidigitation

by fairy_tale_echo



Category: The View from Saturday - E. L. Konigsburg
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-20
Updated: 2007-12-20
Packaged: 2018-01-25 03:24:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1628969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairy_tale_echo/pseuds/fairy_tale_echo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We are a chain unbroken.  Watch closely, it's magic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prestidigitation

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Elucreh

It turns out that when guys like Ham Knapp want to gay-bash you, they care more about the fact that you love musical theater than the fact you had a girlfriend.

Ethan is just surprised that he's surprised, is all. This kind of knowledge about Knapp should basically go without saying. Yet here he is, being surprised that Knapp has escalated to physical violence, punching him in the face and shouting, "QUEER!" while his buddies chuckle in glee. Ethan stumbles back and clutches at his mouth, maybe just surprised that it's taken until senior year to inspire Knapp to heights of physical violence.

Alas, this is the price a man pays for loving Andrew Lloyd Weber.

\---

The thing was the teasing and tormenting wasn't bad in middle school. In fact, it just didn't exist. After The Souls won the Academic Bowl they were celebrities at their school. It wasn't just that they had won it was that they'd done so in what could almost be considered a dramatic fashion, if one were to consider middle school Academic Bowls dramatic. The last minute reversal on Julian's answer, it was the kind of thing people talked about in awe, remembered. So, they were famous. They were famous and Mrs. Olinski got her groove back and everyone marveled at the way the four of them practically thought in tandem. Middle school life was _good_.

\---

But they never competed as an Academic Bowl team again.

The cynics, the doubters, thought it was because they were afraid of being unable to replicate their success. _"One-hit wonders who got lucky,"_ was the unspoken nasty whisper.

But it wasn't that at all.

Over tea at Sillington House, The Souls explained to Mrs. Olinski.

They had formed a life-long connection, a chain of kindness that bound them together for the long haul. But their experience as an Academic Bowl team had only been another link in the chain, not the purpose for its creation. The Academic Bowl was the link that brought Mrs. Olinski into their chain, but that's all it was.

They would endure but they would never repeat.

\---

Even the start of high school had been OK. That was the year that Ethan had finally stopped staring at the way the light slanted through Nadia's hair and kissed her. (Well, fine, she kissed him first, but they had been together from that moment on.) It slid into place with no thought or struggle. Julian and Noah had accepted it as just a given. This was the way they were supposed to divide up. It was all meant to be. Another link in the chain.

\---

In 9th grade, it was easy to slip under the radar, blend into the cacophony of high school. Noah fell in almost immediately with the English Geeks and Nadia matched up with the Science Nerds. Ethan wasn't sure where he was supposed to be. Maybe in the Student Leaders clique his brother had dominated. But that didn't seem right. There didn't seem to be a place for him outside The Souls.

Then one day at lunch while Nadia and Noah were at club meetings and Julian was working on a new sleight of hand trick across the table from him, Ethan wondered out-loud. "Julian, where are we supposed to end up?"

Julian laughed. "Isn't it obvious?" He flashed a ten of spades before Ethan's eyes and then made it vanish. "We're the Art Kids."

By the spring of their freshmen year, Julian fell in with the artists and "freaks" and Ethan was settled with the Drama Club. Their schedules changed and they made new friends, but The Souls were the still The Souls. Most days they ate lunch together, carpooled to school together, sat together in classes. It was something beyond a group or clique or club. It simply was.

And, of course, there was always tea at Sillington House, sometimes it had to start earlier or end later, due to one commitment or another, but it happened every Saturday without fail.

As their freshman year came to a close, however, Ethan knew that it would not always be this way. They would always be The Souls. They would always be bound to each other in the way they'd explained to Mrs. Olinski years ago ... but, like it or not, things were changing. Life was moving on.

\---

In 10th grade, Ethan actually tried out for one of the Drama Club's productions instead of just showing up to tinker with sets and lighting. Surprise, surprise he got a small part in _Cabaret_ and fell in love with the way the lights fell on him. How could he choose just one thing? Theater was like a buffet he couldn't stop stuffing himself at!

And that was when the worst of it really began.

\---

Of course it was Knapp that started it, of course it was. He had never stopped secretly seething at The Souls and besides the fact was, as Ethan had known from that first day in 6th grade when he deliberately tried to humiliate Mrs. Olinski, he was an asshole.

One of the first slurs Ethan remembered was around Valentine's Day in 10th grade. Ethan had bought Nadia some flowers or a stuffed bear or something. The crazy thing was he couldn't remember the present. But he remembered hearing Knapp snicker as he and Nadia walked out to the bus stop, muttering under his breath to his gaggle of friends. "Nice cover, faggot."

His friends had burst into laughter and Ethan had blushed bright red. He had to grab Nadia by her elbow and forcibly drag her off to prevent her from smacking Knapp in the head with her present.

That was how it started.

The jokes, the laughter, the pushing, the mutters and snickers and giggles and pointed, the graffiti on lockers and desks, thrown paper and spit wads, the nasty asides. It wasn't just Knapp, it spread like a cancer through the whole school, it infected everyone, smeared Ethan and dozens of others with the same brush. Some were in the Drama Club, some were loners that sat by themselves at the back of the room, once it was a cheerleading, Homecoming Queen candidate who had the temerity to cut her hair very short and get a small diamond stud in her nose.

**Faggot.**

 

Queer.

Dyke.

Homo.

It hadn't stopped since.

\---

In 11th grade, Nadia did the research, Noah wrote the letters and charter, and Julian charmed their principal for permission and the first Gay Straight Alliance at Emerson High School was born.

Ethan was a founding member and he never missed a meeting.

But he was deeply ashamed of himself as well. He confessed why to the other Souls at Sillington House.

"I was afraid that it would just make Knapp and the others worse. I was scared people would think it meant I was what they've been saying."

Noah had nodded his head. "I know what you mean. But we had to do something. We couldn't let that climate continue unchecked."

Nadia had set her chin defiantly. "It was the right thing to do. Just like standing up for Mrs. Olinski. We had to do _something_."

Julian sipped his tea without breaking Ethan's gaze. "Besides," his said his voice entirely level. "some of us are what they've been saying."

That was how he came out.

\---

In 12th grade, teas at Sillington House turned into once a month meetings.

There was just no other way to juggle everything else that was going on in their lives. Noah had become obsessed with standardized testing and clutched his SAT/ACT prep books as if they were lifelines. Nadia could suddenly spout out every admission number in the country for vet programs. Julian worked non-stop on engineering a visual arts project involving "illusions in public spaces." And Ethan ...

Ethan memorized monologues and studied stage design and looked online for cheap rents in New York City.

\---

"We hardly ever see each other anymore," Nadia said one morning around Christmas as they sat in his basement wrapping presents.

"You know how it is, Nadia. We've each got three thousand things going at once. We can't have Saturday tea every week anymore." Ethan responded.

There was a pause that caused him to look up from the package he was taping. "I meant just me and you Ethan, not The Souls."

"Oh, well..."

"You and Julian spend all your time together working on stuff for Drama and Art Club, designing set pieces and stage tricks. And Noah and I are together practically non-stop. We run so many practice tests and vocabulary quizzes my head spins. Haven't you noticed?"

Actually, he hadn't.

He just stared at her, tape in hand, and wondered how long it had been since he had actually SEEN Nadia.

\---

On New Year's Eve, they stood in Sillington House and raised a toast as Mrs. Olinski and Mr. Singh pretended to not be making eyes at each other over the tinkly piano music. As the guests cheered Ethan placed a friendly, close-mouthed kiss on Nadia's mouth. They were in public, after all. She didn't even bother to wrap her arms around his neck.

The clock struck midnight and The Souls held hands.

\---

After New Year's Day tea, they sat in his car outside her house.

She looked at him with wide, sad eyes, "You don't seem to care one bit about college."

Well, no, because he wasn't going to college. He'd been trying to explain that to her for the past year and a half, but she almost always cut him off with some remark about "Oh, Ethan, there's tons of good drama schools."

But it wasn't like he didn't have a plan! Just because it wasn't " _Nadia and Noah's Plan For Ivy League College Success Beyond Your Wildest Dreams!!_ " didn't mean that his plan was worthless.

"That's because I am not going to college. Julian and I are moving to New York. He's going to work on his street illusion stuff while he works in a hotel and I am going to wait tables while I try to get work on Broadway. If it turns out I really need a degree for the stage work, I'll think about going part-time to a design institute in New York."

It wasn't that this speech was rehearsed or anything, because he'd never actually said any of this to anyone (especially not his parents) but it all came out so naturally. It was like the thousands of hours of conversation that he and Julian had while hammering and working on distraction techniques had all flowed into this one, coherent speech he was delivering to Nadia in his parent's car.

Yes. Of course. That was the plan. What else could it possibly be?

Nadia blinked a few times and shook her head. "Oh, Ethan."

He wondered why she sounded so sorry.

\---

Yet he was still surprised! That was the thing! He was still surprised when, just before Valentine's Day, he got out of rehearsal early and decided to stop by and see Nadia and found her and Noah kissing on the floor of her room, textbooks and notebook paper spread out before them in a jumble.

They jumped apart as soon as he jumped back. The doorknob jammed his back as Nadia leapt up, explanation on her lips.

"Ethan, we didn't...it hasn't...it's not..."

He shook his head. "You _did_! It _has_! It _is_!"

Ethan saw that Nadia was crying and Noah was looking at the floor, unable to look him in the face. Everything was a blur.

"We're the same! The same!" he shouted at them. "How could you do this?"

"Ethan..." Nadia stepped forward, holding her arms out to him. "Ethan, you have to know, you have to understand...don't you see?"

But he didn't. He didn't at all. He shook his head, bit his lip, stumbled out of the room.

\---

Julian let him rant and cuss and stomp around. He patted his back and nodded his head as Ethan swore and sobbed. He sat with him every day at lunch for two weeks and he never mentioned their names.

But then it was time for their monthly Saturday meeting. They hadn't missed one in over five years. But Ethan knew he couldn't go. He expected Julian to understand, to be there for him in the unwavering way he had been in the weeks before. But when he broke the bad news to him, Julian stared back, unblinking, and shook his head.

"No. You cannot miss for a reason like this. That is not how The Souls work," he said, his voice brooking no argument.

"But ... we're not The Souls anymore." The words tasted like ashes in his mouth, burned his throat to be said out loud.

Julian frowned and tsk'ed lightly. "We are always The Souls, Ethan, _always_."

\---

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Noah's face collapsed in relief when he walked into the Sillington House and saw Ethan sitting stiffly at their table. He rushed to his side, babbling the whole way.

"I'm sorry. It's just ... we've been spending all this time together and you were so distant and everything was changing afterwards and, and, and I wasn't thinking about, we were fighting, we were fighting about vocabulary words and then, damn it, the sun was going down and it lit her face up, you know, and I swear, it was just this moment of total lunacy - I didn't _think_ , Ethan, God, I'm so sorry."

It was the way Noah said, _"I didn't think."_ as if it was a crime against humanity ... it was every memory he had of that person, a million of them, and they all made sense and they reminded him that this was a person who knew him so well that he was practically part of him.

Ethan looked at Julian and he looked at Noah and he waited for Nadia to walk in and he knew. He knew what Julian had meant. Bad things would happen. Betrayals, maybe even. They would pull apart and drift away. Life would move on, as he had known many years ago.

But they would always be The Souls.

\---

That April, Julian was the stage director for their high school's scaled down version of _Phantom of the Opera_. He'd worked up some amazing magic tricks and on-stage illusions to compliment Ethan's deranged performance as the Phantom. Everyone agreed it was nothing short of a tour-de-force, a once-in a lifetime high-school event. Nadia and Noah sat in the front row and threw flowers on stage, screaming with joy.

Later that night, there was a cast party at Sillington House, with accolades and heaps of praise.

"I forgive you, you know," Ethan told Nadia in a rare second they were alone.

"Of course. I figured that out months ago, much less when you didn't mind that Noah and I started to hold hands in public," She smiled indulgently.

"I think I knew it was going to happen the way it did. I wish ... I wish I'd been different for you."

It was the best thing he could think to say.

Nadia grabbed his hand and squeezed. "Ethan, it's OK. You didn't have to be any different at all. Remember what you said that day? We _are_ the same, the four of us, The Souls. We have been since sixth grade. We always will be, parts of us. It's just - we're the same, but different, you know?"

He saw Noah lost in conversation with Mrs. Olinski and watched Julian perform a card trick for some underclassmen. He squeezed Nadia's hand back. He _knew_.

"Besides," she continued "I think I always knew it was going to happen the way it did."

He arched his eyebrows at her. "How?" He had to ask.

She gave a tiny laugh. "Prestidigitation."

\---

What had Nadia meant? Prestidigitation. He knew what that meant. It was a magic word, Julian used it in casual conversation. Prestidigitation? He had been tricking her the whole time? He had been using Julian's sleight-of-hand? He was deceitful? He wanted to ask but felt like he should know.

Then Knapp punched him straight in the face, screaming that hateful word, and it all fell into place.

 _Prestidigitation_.

Of course.

\---

He and Julian, they were the same. And not just because they were the Art Kids.

They were the same because of that day on the bus, so many years ago, when Ethan had discovered he couldn't just let Julian stand there.

They were the same because of the countless hours they had spent diagramming light and shadow, brainstorming the same thoughts into things that changed right in front of your very eyes.

They were the same because of New York City dreams, dreams of making a world of magic and craft become real and tangible in a stranger's hands and heart.

They were passengers on the spaceship Earth and all these years, they had been riding somewhere together, towards each other.

\---

He laughed when Knapp punched him in the face. He laughed and thought of Julian's eyes, of the way they sparkled with delight when he completed an especially hard trick.  
_Of course_.

They were the same, after all, a chain unbroken.

Prestidigitation.

Watch it unfold. Watch it change.

It's magic.

 


End file.
